madelaine petsch
may 20th
"are you seriously gonna do this?" i ask.
"yes! we need to know!" kj yells in frustration, pacing.
"well count me in."
"we just need to find the goddamned keys." he groans.
"shut up, kj! be patient. purses are black holes." camila snaps.
"calm down, babe." lili mutters.
"kj started i-"
"oh come on now do not be children. that's the last thing we need."
"I FOUND IT!" cami squeaks.
"finally." kj relaxes a bit.
"let's go!" i hurry.
we all dash to the car, get in, and drive to cole's.
— ≛ —
we go inside, the dark, cold house.
in the living room.
fuck it's messy.
like,
really messy.
"okay. i'll search here. kj, mads, you search his room. lil, you can search the kitchen. if you find nothing move on to another room. but search thoroughly, 'kay?" cami demands.
"yup." we all reply, and go our own way.
kj and i stand at the doorway,
staring at his bed.
where he lied.
before and after death.
i shudder.
looking over at kj, i notice how zoned out he looks.
like he's remembering something.
remembering trauma?
or a memory he wished he could go back to.
i can't tell if the look in his eyes holds fear or lust.
"kj."
he jumps slightly, "what?"
"you good?"
"uh..yeah." he tells me uncertainly.
"c'mon then, let's search," i start going through his messy bed, "maybe it'll all be better once we find out why he did it, get some closure."
"yeah.." he goes through his closet, filled with jackets, monotone shirts.
mostly white.
after we search everywhere with no luck, we're about to leave the room.
until i remember the one place we didn't check.
"under the bed!"
"what?"
"we didn't check under the bed."
"so?"
i look at him with that look.
what does every kid do when they're told to clean their room?
shove everything under their bed.
"oh!" he exclaims in realization.
we rush to the bed and i reach under it, feeling a wooden case.
i try to pull it out but it's heavy.
"kj, come help."
he comes beside me and we both pull it out.
"fuck. there's a lock." he cusses.
i take a bobby pin from my hair and unlock it with little struggle.
"how..?"
he stops his sentence once we see what's inside.
cameras.
polaroids.
books.
his phone.
"jackpot." i mutter.
— ≛ —
authors note
hi! here's chapter 7. ahh i'm with my best friend right now and we were just crying over destiel. I SHIP IT SO HARD IT HURTS. anyways, i hope you enjoy this chapter! byee!!
- s
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